


Not Hopeless

by DemonzDust



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 13:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12459147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DemonzDust/pseuds/DemonzDust
Summary: Scott's thoughts when he sees Theo in the library in Amplification.





	Not Hopeless

**Author's Note:**

> A short ficlet I wrote for the prompt "Feelings" in LiveJournal.

I follow Stiles through the library, listening to him run through plans to save Lydia. We were only broken apart for a few days but years have passed that felt shorter to me. Hearing his voice, taking the stairs in perfect unison with him, it isn’t like I’ve have a friend back. It’s like I have my other half back.

  
We’re ready to head out, ready to spring into action, when I catch a familiar scent, smooth and soapy. My eyes turn immediately and fall on you.

You’re holding a book in your hand, paging through it’s contents, here, in broad daylight. Out in the open, like it’s normal. Like you’re normal.

“What are you doing here?” I ask before I can stop myself.

"I still need to graduate."

When you talk I try to hate you. I wish I could hate you, but I can't.

Every syllable you speak to me is a broken promise. Words slip off your tongue, soft and sweat. Smooth and gentle like a lullaby, but I can feel the poison lying beneath them now. Your mask was too seamless for me to see past before, but now that I know what you really are it has a fake plastic sheen to it, and I wonder how I ever missed it.

Maybe it was that I could always feel sadness from you. Loneliness. Desperation.

I thought you needed a pack. I thought you needed friendship. I thought you needed protection and security, and I was right.

You do need all those things. But you don't want them, or even see that you need them.

“No no.” Stiles immediately cuts in, and I’m grateful because when he speaks, I don’t have to. “What you need is to be beaten severely with a lead pipe. Wrapped in barbed wire.”

“Okay, I admit that mistakes were made-”

“Murders! Some murders were made!”

Stiles words are cutting, but not unjustified.

He has every right to be angry and to hate you. I wish I could be more angry than I am.  
  
  
But Stiles only expresses half of what I want to say to you. He understands the wedge you drove between us. He understands the pain your lies caused us. He thinks he understands how I felt, lying on the library floor, betrayed and alone as I felt life leave my body. He wants to make you pay for that. For what you did to us.  
  
  
But he doesn't understand what your betrayal did to me. How deep it cut me.

He doesn’t understand that when I look at you, I don’t just see someone that hurt me.

I see someone that I trusted.

I never trusted Peter. I never trusted Deucalion. I believed they could both be better, but I never trusted them. I never trusted Kate, or Gerard, or any of the others that have tried to hurt me.

  
But I trusted you. And more than that, I wanted you.  
  
  
The respect and esteem you pretended to hold for me. The need you claimed to have for my friendships and my protection.  
  
  
I wanted you.  
  
  
And the problem is, even after knowing what you are and what you did, I still want you.

“You know how the soviets helped us to win World War II?” You go on, smug and ubpretruberd by Stiles’ temperament. “They knew how to make it through a Russian winter.”

“That it?” Stiles is quick to snip back “Okay. Thank you, Theo. Very informative.”

At that, you finally seem phased. Authentic annoyance ripples through your smooth features, and you turn your eyes towards me, intent on ignoring him.

“If you’re planning on breaking Lydia out of Eichen House you still need to get past the Mountain Ash.” Our eyes lock as you speak and I don’t look away. I want to see you for what you are. “We can make it through. You can’t, Scott.”

When you look at me, your eyes are cold and calculating, but they’re more than that.

You think I can’t see that you’re suffering, but I can. I see you clearer than you see yourself.

“What do you really want?” I demand.

But it’s not any of the questions I really want to ask.

What did they do to you to make you this way?

The question burns on my lips but I know I can't ask it. I'd never get a straight answer from you.

I don't even know if you could answer me if you wanted to.

You can look at me with your fake plastic expression and speak in layers and layers of lies, but you’ll never be able to convince me that you were born this way.

I knew you in fourth grade, Theo.

You weren’t always a monster.

“I know you saw the fresco.” You offer in explanation. “Two seriously pissed off creatures, the hellhound and the Beast, fighting over a pile of dead bodies?”

My every sense is tuned to you know. The beating of your heart, the breath in your lungs, the words as they reverberate through your throat. The swirling darkness in your eyes. The strange churned chemosignals that drift off you.

You’re hard to read because you believe your own lies half the time.

“I don’t want to be one of the bodies, it’s that simple.”

It’s not that simple, and we both know it.

Nothing about you is simple.

“I can get you to Lydia.” You press farther, but I don’t answer you.

I don’t have to for you to know that I will not be letting you “help” me or my pack anytime soon.

“Or we can see who gets to us first.” You threaten when you finally realize that I won’t be swayed.

I watch you replace the book on the library shelf and walk away in childish and unwarranted frustration. My eyes stay on your back as you leave the library, certain that I will be seeing you again in Eichen House.

I still wish I could bring myself to hate you, but I can’t.

Not just because I don’t hate people, but because when you looked at me, underneath the confused layers of lies, I could still see the flickers of the boy I knew a long time ago.

I don’t know what they did to you, Theo. And maybe I’m still being foolish, but I’m not sure that whatever it was can’t be undone.

I want to hope for you. Even though I know I shouldn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, not like my usual stuff, first person and a canon scene, but it was a fun little exorcise. I loved that scene with them in the library so much. ^_^
> 
> Thoughts/constructive criticism always welcome and appreciated.


End file.
